Man. Confused. Little.
I miss the taste of blood,
the rage is gone but the fists clench still.
I miss the chaos and fury,
all my enemies have forgiven me.
I have the taste of you,
my mind wanders to other tastes I’ve not.
I have the quiet and the comfort,
there are matches in the kitchen.
All my enemies have forgiven me,
but I haven’t forgiven you.
All my enemies have forgiven me,
but I can always make more.